


leave me wanting all of you

by InsolitaParvaPuella



Series: Kinktober 2019 [23]
Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alcohol, Dancing, F/M, Fantasizing, Kinktober 2019, Party, Post-Canon, Teasing, listen this one got away from me and i don't know what happened. sorry.
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-23
Updated: 2019-10-23
Packaged: 2020-12-31 19:57:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,270
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21151346
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InsolitaParvaPuella/pseuds/InsolitaParvaPuella
Summary: Sylvain and Dorothea attend a noble party. She's in a mischievous mood.





	leave me wanting all of you

**Author's Note:**

> honestly not one of my best fics, and for that i apologise. i committed to this premise and ship and had ideas, but not enough good ones to sustain this. whoops.
> 
> day 23 pairing: sylvain/dorothea  
day 23 kink: teasing

Sylvain swallowed hard and kept his eyes firmly on the drink in his hand and not on the dance floor. His wife was determined to kill him, but he would not give her the satisfaction. 

It had started simply enough. They had been invited to a social outing during their visit to Enbarr by another lord. They rarely came to the cultural capital of Fódlan, so they had agreed to an evening with their host, all the better to see the sights. Their evening had started with a small, early dinner as a small party, only three couples. They feasted on traditional Brigid foods, served as many small nibbles and eaten with their fingers, shared between all the diners.

Dorothea’s familiarity with Enbarr and its traditions served them well as she poured wine as glasses emptied, kept conversations going, and gently reminded Sylvain that in the former Empire it was more polite to leave the last morsels of food on the serving plates, rather than possibly deprive someone else of them. She disguised her advice with a kiss on the cheek. Sylvain had appreciated the gesture and gently bumped her foot with his, which he thought would be the end of it.

“I didn’t know you were such a good hostess,” Sylvain commented as their party left the restaurant, strolling to their next destination. It was too near to reasonably request a carriage ride. The wine had been strong and Sylvain could feel his cheeks getting warm, but he didn’t feel impaired quite yet. Dorothea looked entirely unaffected even though she had drank the same as him.

“Faerghus hospitality is about mutual survival, what with the hellish weather,” Dorothea says, scowling at the mere thought of the cold. “Adrestian hospitality is a competition. Those with the finest manners show their superiority. I just wanted to remind those nobles that I’m their equal.” There was something cheeky in her voice when she said it. 

Sylvain chuckled and offered her his arm. She smiled back at him and took his elbow, and they strode together over the uneven roads, following their host. Their next stop was the opera, where they met with other nobles and gentlepeople of Enbarr. Dorothea continued to speak and act with absolutely impeccable manners, and Sylvain followed her lead. Waiting for the performance to start, they sipped on champagne as they spoke.

Sylvain was deep in a conversation about show jumping when he felt a warm hand settle on his back. Dorothea was standing nearly hip-to-hip with him, pressed near him by the crowd of people around them, but turned slightly away. Her hand ran up and down his spine the exact same way it did when they were lying in bed together. It sent a tingle up to the back of his neck and he could feel the hair there rising. It took more effort than he wanted to admit to keep his attention on his conversation. Sylvain was even impressed. A gesture like this, between a young, newlywed couple, might be considered a bit atypical, but no one could reasonably be offended by it.

But it was also turning Sylvain on, a problem that persisted when they were finally seated. The auditorium was dark, and Dorothea seemed determined to use this to her advantage. Her bare foot brushed up and down Sylvain’s shin, and her hand rested on his thigh. Sylvain was barely aware of the performance, only managing to applaud in the right places by following Dorothea’s lead. 

Travel to Enbarr had been rough and Sylvain had not had the chance to be intimate with his wife in more than a week between exhaustion from travelling and not being certain their lodgings were appropriately soundproofed. The wine in his veins, the lovely gown Dorothea had chosen to take advantage of Enbarr’s warm nights, and all the affectionate touches were getting him hot and bothered. The additional wine they drank during intermission didn’t help any.

For act two Sylvain planned his revenge. When Dorothea’s hand found its way to his lap again he took it, gently massaging her fingers. She had abandoned her talents for the sword and magic at the end of the war, too haunted by the pain she’d inflicted, and now her palms were soft and sensitive. He watched from the corner of his eye as her posture changed, growing a little more tense. 

When it was time to applaud Dorothea took her hand back and leaned in to whisper, “Don’t get me wet yet. The party ends at sunrise.” Sylvain felt immediately disappointed. Sunrise would be early, but not nearly early enough. 

Despite her warning, Dorothea’s teasing had only gotten more and more blatant. She adjusted his collar and used the chance to run her nails along a sensitive part of his neck. The growing party of nobles went to the coffee shop across the from the opera house and when Dorothea was splashed with some cream, she licked it off the inside of her wrist, looking Sylvain directly in the eyes. Every so often she would slip her shoe off to run her foot up and down his leg. 

And of course, she was maintaining a sparkling conversation about the opera, its performers, and her own interpretation of the tragic final scene. Sylvain knew the story well enough to follow, and occasionally interject with a comic remark. Dorothea used those comments as springboards to new observations, commending Sylvain on his insight. Clever woman that she was, she was both tormenting him and ensuring the other nobles didn’t think too poorly of him.

And that brought him to the dance hall, where their party was currently enjoying a private celebration. Sylvain was sipping at a heavy, sweet wine and enjoying a small sweet by himself. He’d excused himself from a few conversations to get this moment of peace, and Dorothea had immediately spoiled it. She took to the dance floor as the musical set for pair dancing ended and as if on cue, the ensemble struck up a new song.

Dorothea had abandoned her weapons of war as soon as peace was assured, but she never let the dances she had learned go to waste. Her light gown floated around her as she twirled and twisted her hands in elegant patterns. Sylvain was transfixed. He was aroused. He had to get out of the hall. He retreated to a balcony, standing at one side to get a little cool air and privacy. He wanted to go back and keep watching, and the music rang in his ears. But Dorothea’s taunting dance keeps him outside, even after the music stops.

His mind rushes with the thought of her coming out, coming to see what the matter is. Oh, he could bend her over the balcony railing with a fist full of her hair, kissing all the mischief from her. He could close the doors to the balcony and fuck her right then and there. She’s always so loud during sex, he could torment her with orders to keep quiet. She’d love it, she’d clench tight on him with her hands pressed to her mouth in an attempt to not scream and tell all of Enbarr what’s happening.

It’s a fun fantasy, but exactly the opposite of what Sylvain needs. He takes in a deep breath and thinks of the party ahead. Dancing until the horizon grows lighter, then drinking tea to greet the dawn. Then he can take Dorothea to their lodging and fuck her until she can hardly walk straight, let alone dance. Only a few more hours of teasing to tolerate. 


End file.
